


Dance For Me

by jacobmybeloved



Series: Far Cry 6 [2]
Category: Far Cry 6
Genre: Cowgirl Position, F/M, Far Cry - Freeform, Far Cry 6 - Freeform, Far Cry 6 AU, Far Cry 6 Prologue, Hand Jobs, Late Night Conversations, NSFW, OOC?, Sex, Smut, Uhhhhhhhh, and then there was a knock at her door, i don't freaking know, just gimmie the game already
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26036089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacobmybeloved/pseuds/jacobmybeloved
Summary: On the night of her sister's birthday, Danijela Rojas finds herself entangled in a precarious dance with Yara's infamous President.“Dancing typically involves music.”“So we shall make our own.”
Relationships: Anton Castillo/Danijela Casado Rojas, Anton Castillo/OC, Anton Castillo/Original Character, Antón Castillo/Dani Rojas
Series: Far Cry 6 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845526
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Self-indulgent Anton Castillo fic ft. my OC Danijela Casado-Rojas *shrug*
> 
> 2) I've proofread this at least seven times don't @ me lmaooo

The party at Casa del a Castillo was well underway. The feast had just commenced and now the band was filling the entire estate with their lively melodic tunes. While a majority of the invitees were happy enough to indulge themselves in the provided meals and alcohol, there just as many who found this entire event unnecessary. A prime example was the two generals huddled off to the side, gleefully downing their drinks while throwing shade at the party.

“This is a bit much for a servant girl, do you not think?” The first gentleman asked.

“Are you crazy? Keep your voice down pendejo. You may as well insult Castillo’s son while you are at it.”

“Is there a problem here señors?”

The men turned to face a woman standing in a simple but elegant white dress. She stood tall over them, her height accentuated by the heels she wore. Her eyes were sharp and narrowed, standing with her arms crossed as she awaited a response. Despite the two men themselves being dressed in military garbs, they stood at attention staring wide-eyed at the woman confronting them.

“No, no, Miss. Rojas.” The gentleman who made the initial comment replied, his adam’s apple bobbing nervously as he swallowed.

“Casado.” The woman replied.

“Perdóneme?”

“Casado.” The woman repeated, “You will address me as Miss. Casado. And the same gesture should be expected to extend to my sister who you were so graciously speaking of.”

“Of-of course, Miss. Casado.”

The two men bowed their heads as they walked away with their pride tucked between their legs. It did not take them long to curse and mutter under their breath but the woman paid little to no mind. It was common for these men to refer to her and her sister by the name of their fathers. But given neither of them knew the men, they always opted to go with their mother’s. The woman allowed the tension to release from her shoulders as she approached her main destination. She took her seat beside an eager looking girl, green eyes as bright, and as lush as the countryside of Yara. She looked around the room in glee, the yellow flower in her hair bobbing every which way with each turn of her head.

To the left of the woman sat the most powerful man in all of Yara, el Presidente himself. He barely seemed to acknowledge her presence, but the girl on her right was more than ready to talk her ear off the moment she sat down.

“Took you long enough. You missed the cake cutting!”

“Evimer, please be considerate and lower your voice.” The woman said with a stern tone.

Finally, the man beside her stirred, letting out a soft chuckle, “It is quite alright, Danijela. Allow your sister to have her fun.”

Despite being sisters, one may categorize the two as sharing a more mother-daughter relationship. It was, after all, Danijela who had raised Evimer after their mother’s passing. At just under two decades apart, it was hard to separate the maternal instincts Danijela had been forced into at such a young age.

“My apologies Mr. Castillo.” She responded, slightly embarrassed by her actions now.

Mr. Castillo had been one of the few blessings the sisters had come to know. Without his graciousness, they would both still be living out in the streets. Evimer was placed with the cleaning staff, which may seem like a burden to some but the young girl really seemed to enjoy it. Lord knows she has more than enough energy for it. It also gave her the opportunity to gossip with the other cleaning ladies, something Evimer was quite adept at. Danijela herself had a more precarious job: to be both Mr. Castillo, and his son Diego’s personal guard.

Danijela could not complain. She greatly admired Mr. Castillo. She didn't quite understand the politics that engulfed Yara long before she was born, and she continued to be passive to it until now. Her main focus had always been to survive until the next day. Whether that meant swindling a street vendor out of food or working gigs for one of the many street gangs. Dani would have done it all over. For Evimer’s sake.

Thanks to Mr. Castillo, however, she no longer had to live off scraps or force her own sister to go hungry. She owed him her own life. There was an admiration she held for him that no one could ever compare. Even as she sat there, she stole glances at him as he watched the party underway. She imagined he must have been magnificently handsome as a younger man. Even as age continued to soften his features, he still had a sharpness to him that made him look strong and intimidating.

Part of her wondered if his son who sat beside him would grow into those same features. Diego was a few years younger than Evimer, so he still had that soft baby face that accompanied the pre-adolescent years. It could also just be she inherited more of his mother's physical traits. Danijela knew little to nothing about el Presidente’s previous wife. In fact, no one talked about her. She was but a ghost that everyone knew was there but could, or would not acknowledge. She often wondered if that absence affected Diego in the same way her mother’s absence had affected her and Evimer.

Danijela is torn from her thoughts by Evimer’s sudden squeal as the musicians transitioned to the next song.

“Oh, I love this one!” She cried as she bounced up from her seat.

Before Danijela could hush her, Evimer was standing on the opposite side of the table, her eyes pleading as the other attendees began to crowd to the center, beginning to dance.

“Come dance with me Dani!”

Danijela groaned as she sank back into her seat. Diego’s soft voice, on the other side of Anton, spoke up - interjecting.

“I can dance with you Evee.” He said gleefully.

His brown eyes were wide with hopeful excitement. There was no hiding he harbored a crush on Evee, but the young girl was painfully oblivious to it.

Anton frowned slightly at Diego’s interruption, giving him a stern look.

“You may dance your way to your room as you get ready for bed.”

Diego’s shoulders sink with disappointment, looking between his father and the two sisters.

“But Papa-”

“Now.” Anton replied without skipping a beat.

Danijela watched with sympathy as the boy’s head hung low, scooting out from the table and walking till he disappeared from the room. She leaned slightly towards the president, ready to voice her concern about being too harsh to the boy, something many others would not dare to do. She paused at the last second, knowing that despite the privilege she may hold in this house, it was wise to not overstep. Anton, however, sensed her concern and answered her silent look.

“If he is to be el Presidente one day, he must learn that you cannot always get what you want.”

Danijela pursed her lips, feeling both Evimer’s uneasiness at the sudden change in Mr. Castillo’s tone. Danijela stood quickly, ready to follow after the boy as was her duty. Keep both father and son safe. It was the only thing asked of her when she had been brought into this home.

The senior Castillo surprised her though, gently grasping her arm causing her to pause.

“I will watch over him.” He then motioned to a still waiting Evee, “You would not want to deny your sister her birthday dance, no?”

Danijela looked at him curiously, “It is my duty Mr. Castillo to protect both you and your son. I wouldn't dare place you in a vulnerable situation.”

Her words caused his lips to curl up in a smile, “You amuse me Danijela. Perhaps you and the young ones could learn from each other.”

Anton stood, nodding to both sisters as he left the room, leaving the two sisters in a room with Yara’s elite. With Mr. Castillo no longer in the room, Dani could immediately feel all eyes on them. The whispers and sneers trickled over her skin. But the way Evee’s eyes pleaded with her, she knew she would have to put up with their unsatisfactory gazes for however long Anton would be absent.

“One. Dance.” Dani stated, holding up a finger for emphasis.

“Two dances!” Her sister shot back, an excited glow radiating off her face.

“One.” Danijela retorted.

Evimer’s brows scrunched up, plotting how to get the most out of this bargain, “One and a half.”

“Fine. One and a half.” Danijela groaned.

Evimer’s moss green eyes lit up with the same eagerness she expressed on the daily. The girl was like a battery pack - she had so much energy pent up that Danijela often wondered if they were even from the same maternal bloodline. Of course, it could just be an aspect she inherited from her absentee father.

Evimer led Danijela by her hand to the center of the dance floor, just in time as the musicians reached the climax of the song Evimer was so eager to move to. Evee’s smile was more than contagious, and the way she twirled and stepped like she was center on stage in the theatre. Dani allowed herself to be pulled and spun by her sister, as awkward as her movement might appear given her height.

After a few moments though, a by-product of Evee’s continuous laughter, she felt the tension between her shoulders shedding away the invisible weight they carried. Perhaps Anton was right about needing a lesson from the children of this household. She was in a constant fight-or-flight panic. Always on edge, ready for the next catastrophe to happen. Always trying her best to be prepared whereas her sister could easily walk through a trial by fire with a spring in her step. Enjoying every second of what it meant to be alive.

Dani felt her body become more fluid with each passing moment, her head rolling with the ups and downs of the musical rhythm. The others could stare so long as they wished. The two sisters were locked in an almost ritualistic movement - mimicking their youth when they would dance under the night sky near the fire they had built near an abandoned warehouse in which they lived. There was nothing that could tear her away from her sister at that moment.

That wasn’t to say that the same rule applied to Evee.

A voice caught the two sisters off guard - a young man in a soldier’s uniform had approached, his eyes zeroing in on Evee. His round cheeks suggested he was only a year or so older than the younger Casado sister but his garb suggested otherwise. His lips were moving as he explained his presence. Son of one of the generals who had attended the party. _Yada yada - would you like to dance?_

Danijela bit her tongue as she looked to Evee, once again eyes as wide as a saucer. If there was one weakness Evimer had other than running her mouth, it was the opposite sex. Danijela could not pretend that Evimer would be a young girl forever. There would be more moments like this as she grew older. One day, the two sisters would be found isolated from one another, no longer attached at the hip. Danijela would be lying if she said she would not mind that freedom - after all, she had given up her entire childhood to raise the girl. The thought of her sister's absence though...it frightened her.

“Dani?”

Evee’s voice snaps Danijela out of her own head. The older sister looked down, seeing that her sister was waiting for a response to a question she had not heard.

“Is it okay if we finish our dance later?”

Danijela mulled over the idea of letting her sister dance with the boy, but knowing any disagreement would make a scene, she capitulated.

“As soon as you’re done dancing, you need to get ready for bed.”

Evee’s face flushed as she brushed her hair back - trying to act cool enlight of the embarrassment she suddenly felt.

“Okay, _mom_.” She said sarcastically.

The comment left a hollow feeling in Danijela’s chest. While she knew her sister meant it in jest, it pained her knowing she could never be the sister Evee needed. Evee turned to the boy, grasping his arm as they headed further into the dance floor. Left alone, the curious eyes of the other patrons threatened to swallow Danijela whole. She turned tail, her eyes avoiding anyone at eye level - but escaping would not be so easy for the former street thief. She gasped as she bumped into a figure stepping in her direction.

Hands came up, gently grasping her arms to steady her. The white suit was a dead giveaway as she looked up, soft almost dream dazed eyes staring back at her.

“Going so soon señorita?”

Antón’s words are clothed in a faint hint of playful teasing, with a dash of concern littered underneath.

Danijela nodded her head, her hands patting against her dress, not knowing how to get rid of this anxious feeling that was threatening to swarm her mind.

“Yes, thank you. I was just going to step outside for some air.”

“Ah,” He replied, “-if you don’t mind, I would love to join you.”

He leaned in a bit closer, the next part meant for her ears only, though she doubted anyone would hear him over the music.

“I would rather not spend the rest of the evening with these brown-nosers.”

Danijela covered her mouth stifling a chuckle while Anton’s lips curled up, finding joy in her amusement.

“I cannot say I blame you.” She responded.

The two walked away from the dance floor and disappeared down the hall. Normally, seeing a country’s leader sneaking off with a young woman of whom he had no relation to would have stoked a rumor mill larger than anyone could possibly maintain. But she was his trusted guardian. The last resort should anyone get past his other defenses. It was only normal that she be by his side even in some of the most intimate of moments.

There was an instant relief as they stepped through the double doors of the balcony, leaving behind the noise of the music and chattering people. They walked along the length of the balcony, Danijela following Mr. Castillo’s form as he casually strolled, seemingly waiting till they were out of sight of any interlopers who would interrupt the moment. Appearing pleased that that would not be the case, Castillo turned and faced her, his eyes lofty and with a smile that she had nearly glossed over due to its subtlety.

The city lights dance off Mr. Castillo’s face like far distant fireflies. Danijela felt overwhelmed by how soft his face became in just the slightest change of lighting. The strong confident man in the posters that hung around town portrayed a monarch. The man she watched over the entire evening sat upon his chair like the king of kings. An otherworldly being that was untouchable by mundane means. It left a nervous lump in her throat as she tried to pull her eyes away. What was this feeling that made her stomach turn in knots?

“Mr. Castillo-” She said, not noticing the way his eyes fixated on the way his name fluttered on her lips.

“Please..” He raised a polite hand and with a warm smile replied, “..please have a seat.”

He gestured to the stone bench that sat against the balcony.

“Oh, and no more need for the formalities. You have been a part of this household for many years. Just Antón is perfecto.”

Her lips draw favorable to one side of her face in a lovely smirk as she sat down, his form following suit, sitting beside her.

“Antón. I wanted to thank you for the evening. You really did not have to go through all this trouble...”

“It is no more than a party Danijela. Had I the resources, it would have been much grander. But-”

He gestured to the city skyline, his hand almost nearly aligning with a bellow of smoke rising in the distance. Another protest questioning Anton’s leadership was going strong within the dark hours of the night. The situation needed no more explanation.

“How is Diego handling...everything?” She asked.

Antón leaned back, one arm across his chest as he rose a finger to his lips, processing her question.

“As good as any adolescent boy.” He shrugged, “He’s too fascinated by each and every new hair that appears on his body. His nose is buried deep in his little cars and his eyes glued constantly to your sister.”

“That girl…” Danijela huffed, close to a cut-off laugh, “I wish I could keep her eyes focused on one boy. Híjole.”

Her exasperation caused Antón to chuckle, “Oh to be young again. To just be indulgent of life's simple treasures.”

“Simple childhoods were never an option for us though, was it? Danijela murmured.  
Anton met her gaze, nodding solemnly, “No, it was not.”

They sat in silence for a bit after, the rumblings of the music inside leaking out to the patio, filling the night sky. Danijela found the whole setting to be quite lovely. She could think of no better way to end the evening. She could sit here peacefully for hours and not make a fuss. The warm humid night was bearable knowing she was able to share this moment with Castillo.

A light brush against her leg caused her to be startled. Antón’s hand had placed itself on her leg - which she found a bit odd, but his touch was soft and tender that if he withdrew it now she would long for it immediately.

Dani felt her back straighten up as his fingers began to linger for far longer than expected. She found herself peeking over like a curious child, wanting to see their sibling doing something mischievous so they could go and rat to their parents. Antón’s fingers curled gingerly, grasping the fabric of her dress as he began to pull it back, exposing the long lithe legs hidden underneath.

His face gave no tell as to what he’s thinking, which in turn sent her own mind spiraling. Danijela’s eyes followed the profile of his face as he looked on. She followed from the half-closed lids down the arch of his Roman nose, and further down till eventually they fell on the soft texture of his lips.

“Are you happy here, Danijela?”

“Of course I am, Mr. Castillo-” She paused as she caught herself, “-Antón.”

His lips curled up at her slip, moving at the same pace as his hand up her thigh. Dani can feel her heart beating all the way through her throat. The only dead giveaway of any nervousness she had was the way she pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, taking on all the tension in her body in one muscle.

“And your sister?”

Dani stifled a chuckle, “Exceedingly so. I don’t think I could tear her away from here even with an army behind me.”

“That brings warmth to my heart.” He said, his tone much more solemn compared to her light-hearted jest.

“The people of Yara. I wish they felt the same and you and your sister. They fight like a child refusing their bedtime when all you want is to ensure their well-being. They kick and scream and will destroy all that you build because they cannot comprehend what it is you are trying to do.”

His hand continued to glide up, creating a chilling sensation that raised little bumps along her skin.

“All their noise and indecision. They would not hesitate to place me on an execution block in front of my own son. As they did my father..”

The image unraveled in Dani’s mind, Antón’s words painting the scene. It was difficult to imagine him at an age close to Diego. But it was there. Those brown eyes wide forced to look even as his body screamed to look away.

History was threatening to repeat itself as the days lingered on. Three years have been since she stepped foot into Anton Castillo's residence, and saw what life could be like if she had watched Yara dissolve into a hellscape - all because they were too blind to see the man behind the devil they painted on the posters on the that littered the streets.

Danijela promptly put her hand over his, causing him to whisk his eyes up towards hers. Her with a subtle furrow edged along her brows, she stared into his brown eyes, the lights of the city continuously dancing like tiny bodies of fireflies. Her stomach tightened, realizing how this...this was wildly inappropriate given her station. He was on a level she would never reach, but she had to assure him...

“I would never allow any harm to come to you or Diego, sir. So long as I breathe.”

With a sudden tug, he yanked his hand away from her, a metallic _shiiing_ whistling between them as he drew her hidden blade sheathed in a harness strapped to her thigh. Danijela’s jaw tightened as she brushed her dress back down, smoothing out the fabric as her eyes fell.

“Promises are the easiest way to disappoint, Danijela.”

Antón held the knife up for inspection, smirking, “Especially if you allow yourself to be disarmed so easily.”

His smirk did not last long, as a subtle _click_ drew his eyes away from the blade. Danijela held an ornately designed gun in her hands, aiming it at the wall as though debating giving it a test run. She pulled the gun back to her, her fingers running across the lions that acted as the gun’s guardians. Dani watched as he pulled back his coat slightly, confirming that his gun was indeed missing from its holster.

“It is a very good thing in your case, Mr. Castillo…” She let his name roll off her tongue with a purposeful elongated enunciation, almost teasing, “I am very, very good with my hands.”

Contrary to what she had anticipated, Antón leaned in closer, his mouth dangerously close to her ear. She felt the wave of chills as he dropped his voice to a whisper.

“I would be lying if I did not say I am curious as to what else your hands can do.”

Danijela found it hard to ever be at a loss for words. Her entire existence was based solely on talking her way out of shitty situations or distracting idiot street vendors with her words while her hands did the real work. She found this phenomenon to be a re-occurring whenever she found herself in Antón’s presence.

Without waiting for her response, he slid the gun from her hand and back into his holster. With her blade still in his hand, he stood, towering over her. With the blade pointed towards her, he brushed the edge of it along her jawline, tilting it down lightly against her neck and across her collar bone. His eyes followed strategically before flipping the knife, now holding the blade as the handle pointed at her.

Danijela pursed her lips as she reached for it, but was stopped by the sudden sensation of his hand encapsulating her wrist. He yanked her up from the bench, her body colliding with his, her hands resting against his chest as she braced the impact. She is stunned, even more so as he slides her dress up, gingerly placing her knife back to its rightful place. It should have ended there. An awkward goodbye before they returned to being the leader of an entire country and his trusted bodyguard who obeyed his every order.

It should have been as simple as that. Except he didn’t let go. He continued to hold her close to him. His face appeared almost conflicted about it - knowing he had to let go, but something telling him to keep holding on. Hesitant, he released her, straightening his coat out where her impression had been.

“I have to go...prepare for tomorrow’s meeting with these pompous, military jugheads.”

Danijela met his fleeting eyes as she brushed her hair with her fingers, tucking them behind her ears.

“Well, I bid you a good night Presidente.”

Without thinking, she placed her hand on his, and got close, placing a peck on his cheek. The two shared a glance. A hunger. Danijela briskly walked away before anything more could be said - her head whirling with conflicting thoughts and emotions, turbulent like the sea that surrounded the island. Tomorrow was a new day. And she could put this night, and any unrequited feelings far behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

After her and Anton’s meeting on the balcony, Danijela wrangled her sister to her bedroom before returning to her own - if it could even be called a room. Unlike Evimer, Danijela was not so accustomed to their new life, even if she had had plenty of time to adjust. The rooms were all too big, space filled with trinkets that would have gotten her and Evimer fed for months on end if they had had access to them before they were saved by Anton’s gracious invitation. No, she preferred something smaller, almost mimicking the constrained nature of her childhood home, for however short a time they had it. It was a glorified shoebox if she were to be realistic. This space was slightly larger, but still retained the echo of that familiar memory. The room was a repurposed storage room, large enough to fit her bed, clothing, and a nightstand where a single lamp sat. Some may have found the arrangement odd, but Danijela felt at ease here. In addition, it was down the hall from Anton and Diego, so if any trouble arose, she would be ready to act.

Having too much space was frightening. It invited numerous possibilities of things that could go wrong. So she always had to be prepared, ready on the balls of her heels to run or have her tongue pushed to the roof of her mouth ready to talk her way out of trouble. Home was never a concept she understood until she came here. Until she met Anton and his son.

Her mind drifted to the moment they shared on the balcony. Had Anton just been trying to prove a point? Or did his intentions lie elsewhere? The way his hand had graciously grazed her skin..

Danijela knew Anton had a more exaggerated way of trying to emphasize his philosophy and ideals - it was foolish to think that it was anything more than that.

She undid the straps of her dress, brushing them off of her shoulders, allowing the white fabric to fall down around her ankles. She slipped on a short, red satin night-gown, one of the only luxuries she felt she could gift herself without feeling guilty over it.

A sudden knock at her door stirred her, making her heart freeze momentarily. She had just sat on the edge of her bed to remove her shoes, rolling her eyes as she stood up..

“Evimer,” She said in a harsh whisper, “What are you still doing up-”

As she opened the door, she nearly took a step back out of surprise. For it was not Evimer standing before her. Anton stood quietly, seemingly emotionless, or deep in thought before his eyes widened with recognition. He was still dressed in his attire from the evening party. He also seemed surprised, as though he had appeared here before her without any inkling of his own knowledge. His gaze flickered down and up, quickly taking in her image. There was a hunger panged look in his eyes as he settled on her face. Danijela felt her entire body suddenly on display - it stirred a sense of dangerous excitement in her.

“I apologize. I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

He coaxed in a way that sounded he was not at all apologetic for being here. Danijela leaned against the doorway, one hand sliding up the door frame while another hand came to rest on her hip as she stood there perched like a stretching feline. She could still feel the warmth of his hand pressed against her thigh - and it was that sensation that was playing with her mind in this moment.

“I was just preparing for bed.”

That was obvious. He would have to be naive to think she would be elsewhere unless he had specifically given her the order to. He was here for a reason. And deep down in her stomach, she knew exactly what it was. She had known in the way he looked at her back on the balcony. The way his hand brushed against her skin. But she had a childishly curious mind at times - how would he proceed?

With a gleaming smile, she tilted her head to the side, “Was there something I could do for you, Antón?”

He leaned in slightly, a devilish grin growing upon his lips, “It occurred to me that we did not share a dance this evening.”

“That is an astute observation.” Dani smirked, “But I’m afraid I’m not dressed appropriately for dancing at the moment…”

“You look perfect.” Antón interjected.

Dani moved back as he stepped further into the room. She swallowed any shaking nerves she had as Antón closed the door behind himself. Dani glanced quickly about her room, sizing up that she had just about enough room to swap spots with Anton but she felt her feet planted in place, unable to move.

“I’m afraid if you came here to dance there is not much room.” She continued to stall, wondering how far she could go until he revealed his true intentions.

It felt like a test of who would move first. The thief or the tactician.

“There are many forms of dance.” He retorted, his hands lazily unbuttoning his suit top, draping it on a nearby chair, “Is dance not the rhythmical movement of the body?”

Danijela had stepped back until she felt her legs bump into the edge of her bed, her fingers tangling themselves within the linen as she bit her lip, trying to contain the waves of temptation that threatened to take her under.

“Dancing typically involves music.”

“So we shall make our own.”

“Mr. Castillo-”

"What have I said Danijela." He smirked, "Please, call me Antón."

The next few moments were a blur. She could only remember her lips parting to meet him as he leaned into her, his hands resting on her waist as she pulled him into him. She eased into his touch like a flower tilting towards the warmth of the sun. His fingers dug into her, greedily and passionate - wanting to touch every ounce of her while at the same time expressing a softness that left her melting into his arms.

They paused long enough for Antón to switch positions with her. He held onto her hand as he sat on the edge of the bed, using his free hand to unbuckle his pants, pulling them down enough that his excitement was read loud and clear. His other hand urgently ran up under her dress, pulling down her bottoms as she worked on unbuttoning his shirt.

“Please...” Antón raised her hand to his mouth shortly after they both finished with the other, kissing the back of it softly as he echoed his words from earlier in the evening, “..please have a seat.”

Danijela turned her hand slightly, using the tip of her thumb to run along his lips. Antón smirked as he opened his mouth, gently biting it before she slowly dragged it down, pulling at his bottom lip.

“And if I decline?” She whispered, running her other hand down the front of his shirt.

There was a sharp look in his eyes as he gripped her hand just a little tighter. Pulling her a little bit closer. There was still a smirk to his lips as he let out a growl.  
  
“As el Presidente, I order you. To. Sit.”

Danijela looked into his eyes as she sat gingerly on his thighs. She grasped his shaft, moving her hand up and down slowly. Antón tilted his head back, closing his eyes as he let out a gasp. Danijela shifted her hips into him, allowing his tip to brush teasingly against her. He became so hard that she feared he would cum right then and there. She released him shortly after to keep him waiting just a bit longer.

Anton reacted by running his hands through her hair, grasping a handful as he pushed her head forward, refusing to pull away until his lips met hers. His lips were like a nomad - traveling from the corner of her lip, along the angle of her jaw, and down her neck, tasting every inch of her until he was satisfied.

Danijela had been with a handful of lovers before. But she had never felt this close to another human being. There was an invisible connection between her and Anton Castillo. Two sides of the same coin. Teeter tottering as they spun around, drowning in the sheer sensation of the other’s skin. Both of them eagerly began to remove their remaining clothing - too late for any last-minute reservations. The relationship they had prior to this was no more. No way to stop moving forward.

She felt a deep ache below her belly. Her clit throbbing with every move she made, each time his lips grazed the surface of her skin. He was becoming impatient, his hands gripping her more tightly. His member no doubt throbbing being without her warmth.

She wanted to hold the power over him. If just for a second. She felt a form of satisfaction as she saw as Anton looking at her with subtle desperation. She readjusted herself, climbing further on top of his thighs, straddling against his waist. Dani held her body up, teasing herself with the tip of his cock, letting him slowly fill her as his head tilted back.

“Just like that...yes…” He uttered.

Danijela gasped as she felt his whole shaft inside her. Pleasure outrunning the dagger-like sensations.

She rocked her hips, building a rhythm. He kept looking at her intensely, before bringing his lips to hers, pulling away and coming back again. It was like releasing years of unspoken longing each time. She slid up and down on his cock, pushing him deeper inside her each time. The sensation was r ight on the edge of pain but the sharp feeling of it kept her grounded in her body. The pressure was intense. Like a taste of a forbidden drug. A constant spreading ache having gone her entire life without it. She squeezed her eyes shut and rolled her head back, letting the feeling flow through her. 

His hand moved between both their bodies, hiding away between her legs. His fingers traced a delicate pattern, dancing along the tip of her clit. The sensation was nearly enough to end her right there. But he would not have her go without amping it up a little. She cursed audibly, placing both hands against his chest as his fingers began to move with much more vigor. Teetering on the edge. Eventually, she succumbed. She began to unravel in the presence of his warmth, like a forgotten doll at the mercy of a curious child as they began to pull apart its seams, opening her up from the inside. Her cries escaped her mouth in rapid succession as she finished.

She pushed him back, falling onto the bed beside him, panting, her hair stuck to her skin from the sweat that began to form on the back of her neck. Antón, however, was far from finished. He stood at the edge of the bed, grabbing her legs and pulling her to the edge, spreading her like a paper doll as he prepared to take her again.

“Is this your first time ever being satisfied by a lover, Danijela?”

She choked out a laugh, covering her eyes with her hands as her cheeks flushed, “Is it so obvious?”

She peered up, met by his subtle, teasing smile, “You are very much like me, Danijela. I am a man who has never known satisfaction.”

“Is that so?” She said defensively wondering if she should feel offended.

She could not linger long on his comment, however - soon enough she found herself gasping as he gripped her thighs, beginning to thrust once more into her.

“I’ve never been satisfied.”

He repeated his sentiment, growling as he pushed himself further and repeatedly bucking his hips into her. Danijela’s hands grasped onto the bedsheets, tangling her fingers within them. His gasps overshadowed hers, finding their way through his clenched teeth. He began to lean forward, his body coming to rest upon hers as he continued their dance until he declared his finality with an aching moan.

Antón rested his body atop of hers, though he held himself up partially with one hand as the other graciously cupped her face. His eyes were locked onto hers, lying quietly, listening to the melody of the other’s breathing. The subtle thumping of hearts beating through their chests.

“I have never been satisfied. Not until you...” He whispered, leaning in and resting his head against hers.

For a moment, she thought he had misspoken, but as they lie together there, he solidified his statement with words that were more tender than any kiss he could grace her with.

“Now dance for me one more time.”


End file.
